


Once in High Wycombe

by randomscientist



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Episode: s04e02 The Lying Detective, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 16:19:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9279647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomscientist/pseuds/randomscientist
Summary: "I once caught a triple poisoner in High Wycombe."And no, never "nights of passion" there, since John was wondering.





	

_High Wycombe_. Sherlock stopped the corner of his mouth from quirking into an amused smile as the number 0.103% floated into view in white letters. The probability of John mentioning that particular location, out of all the 968 towns in England (without even beginning to count the cities or venturing North), in his split-second choice of somewhere ordinary to illustrate a point.

Even the (apparently) never-lazy universe had its days off, so it would seem. Nevertheless, John was wrong of course, about the nights of passion.

 _Passion_? To this day Sherlock retained his unease with annotating the intensity of the intoxicating _something_ induced by and only by The Woman. The overwhelming sensation that (likely against those laws of physics that he’d deleted) would never fail to simultaneously ignite and drown his entire being. The entity that had only amplified through time and across distance, though not without casting sharp shadows of ache in its path. He _would_ , however, presently acquiesce to John’s use of word, for he knew not any other way to describe the effects of such powerful chemistry that he’d once considered so simple.

But no, not _nights_ of..that. Not in the aforementioned town. This was where John’s error was. Irene and he had merely stayed in High Wycombe for one day. Sherlock felt the _something_ well up in his chest again as a familiar car door swung open insubordinately in his mind palace, revealing –

Sherlock swallowed and forced his focus back to 221B, to the dear friend who was becoming increasingly emotionally invested in his heated argument.

“I once caught a triple poisoner in High Wycombe.” Sherlock offered by way of a response. It was true, the case had been the reason for his travelling there in the first place, and he’d solved it, swiftly. But that had been in the morning, and whatever happened afterwards was, well, that was between him and Irene.

Perhaps, someday, he might feel ready to share some of _their_ stories with his best friend, adventures interwoven with the _somethings_ in that very special part of his life, with The Woman. But for the time being, it would have to remain private.

“That’s only the beginning, mate.” Stated John.

 _Too right it was_. And Sherlock opened his mouth again, to change the subject.

**Author's Note:**

> *inserts that recent photo of the beautiful Lara Pulver looking absolutely stunning in the front seat of a car*


End file.
